Checks and Balances
by Desbelleschoses
Summary: A series of one-shots centered around Jean and Riza's friendship. Rating and genre subject to change.
1. Just a Spare

**Just a Spare**

 **Rating:T**  
 **Word Count: 1,073**  
 **Summary: Riza's sick, Ed is disappointed, and Jean can't keep himself together.**  
 **Author's Note: This is the first story of my Riza and Jean saga! I don't have a broad title for the collection just yet, but this is intended to be the first piece. I hope you enjoy!**

Edward never dreamed that it was possible. He was frozen in shock as he stood in the doorway, looking in on his new comrades. It hadn't been long since he had been placed under Mustang's command, but it wasn't difficult to pick up on the group dynamic. It was eerily silent in the office, pencils scratching over paper. His golden eyes surveyed the room, stunned when he saw that the lieutenant was missing. Every time she left the office, he had known the others to shirk their responsibilities. But there they were, working away at their desks like she had threatened them on one of her short-tempered days.

He stepped cautiously across the threshold, his meta leg thunking on the hollow floor. "Alright, what gives?" he demanded without so much as a hello.

"Ah, Fullmetal. Have you brought me your report?" Roy asked indifferently, reciting a script he had become accustomed to.

"I'm working on it," Ed brushed off. "Where's the lieutenant? And why are you all acting so weird?"

"Lieutenant Hawkeye is out sick today," Roy informed his wayward subordinate. "And we are working on a proposal that we've been preparing for months. So, if you have nothing to report-"

"Bullshit."

Roy looked at the red-cloaked boy blankly.

"Bull. Shit. What did you do?"

"What the hell do you mean, 'what did I do?'" The colonel shot back, his voice no longer steady. Damn this little runt…

"Easy there, tiger," Jean interrupted, taking his feet off his desk. "We _are_ capable of acting like adults, you know. Ree's caught the stomach flu. The only way she'd stay home is if we promised to finish the proposal, and that was after we pushed her mask-wearing, zombie ass out of the office." Kain gaped at Jean, who shrugged. It's not like he wouldn't have said that to her face.

Ed's bravado fell as he realized that he wasn't being lied to. "Oh."

"What is it, Fullmetal?" Roy asked, looking up from his work.

"Well, Al and I wanted to do something nice for her birthday. Give her a present, you know? 'Cause we're headed out tomorrow for Central."

It was easy to forget that Ed was only twelve years old. It wasn't surprising that the two boys had latched onto Riza. At the moment, she was the most consistent, authoritative female presence that they had. Roy believed that the boys needed to toughen up. His own parents had died when he was young, and Chris wasn't exactly an affectionate mother figure. Add to that what he had seen at the Hawkeye household, and he found it difficult to sympathize.

"Just leave it on her desk," Roy suggested. "She should be back to work on Monday."

"Yeah," Ed relented. He stuck his hand into the pocket of his cloak and withdrew an impressively poorly-wrapped gift, which he set on the lieutenant's desk. He jumped when he heard a sharp whistle.

"Here ya go, kid." Jean tossed something into the air at him. Ed reflexively reached out and caught it. When he opened his fist, a silver key glinted against his white glove.

"What's this?"

"Spare key." Jean tucked his keyring back into his pocket. "Bring her some soup or something, while you're at it."

Ed was confused, but his hopes were back up, which was more than enough to brush that from his mind. "Thanks, Lieutenant Havoc!" He snatched the package off of Riza's desk and ran out into the hall. "Hey, Al!"

"Don't worry about bringing it back! I'll get it later!" Jean called after the kid. He chuckled to himself and busied himself lighting a cigarette.

"Lieutenant Havoc?"

"Hmm?" Jean turned to his commanding officer.

"Why do you have a key to Lieutenant Hawkeye's apartment?"

The air in the room became oppressively heavy. Jean needed to choose his next few words very carefully.

"Because she gave me one."

Swing, and a miss.

"And I assume Lieutenant Catalina has one, as well?"

Jean shrugged. "Maybe?" When he finally met the colonel's accusing gaze, he bristled. "I don't get why you're giving me the third degree here."

"It's very suspicious for a subordinate to have a key to his commanding officer's residence."

Jean arched a single eyebrow. _Are you fucking kidding me right now, Mustang?_ "Ree has one for yours."

"That's different. She's my adjutant. And her _name_ is Lieutenant Hawkeye."

"If it bothers you so damned bad, why don't you give yours back to her, too? It's the same thing." After a moment of silence, Jean couldn't control his smirk. "Unless you don't have one."

"That's completely irrelevant!"

"Sooo, you don't, then."

"At least I'm acting in propriety!"

It suddenly dawned on Jean that his commanding officer was taking this far more seriously than he was. "Relax, Mustang. We all know the rules, right?" It was too late to cover his tracks when he realized what he was insinuating. "Not like that matters, though." Shit!

"Damn, Jean," Heymans added, astonished.

"No, that's not what I meant!" Jean began to become frantic. He was all too aware that he wasn't helping his own case. He let out a cry of frustration, tearing at his own hair.

Roy hadn't said a word. Oh, god, he was going to be lit on fire. This was how he was going to die. Flambeed for his own stupidity.

He and Riza were undeniably close, but it had been a long time since he had any sort of romantic feelings for her. Sure, he had a crush at one point, but who would blame him? She was more of a bro than anything else! It was almost like thinking about sleeping with his own sister. Well, he didn't have a sister, but he assumed that this would be what that would be like – stop!

Roy measured his tone as he handpicked his next words. "Lieutenant Havoc, do I need to consider reassignment for you to another chain of command."

"No! It's not like that! She's like my hot sister!" Oh god, he wanted to die. Where was Riza when he needed her? She would have stopped him long before he got to this point. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Caught the stomach flu, did you, there, Jean?" Heymans joked before he could stop himself.

Jean just groaned and let his head fall onto his desk. "May I please be excused for the day?" he mumbled into the wood.

"Dismissed."


	2. No Secrets Between Friends

**No Secrets Between Friends**

 **Rating: T  
Word Count: 1,771  
Summary: Heymans' gift turns out to be a curse when he's unable to figure out the exact nature of Jean and Riza's relationship.  
A/N: Guys, I finally wrote something! It's been way too long. I hope you enjoy ^_^**

It had been a long week for Heymans Breda. The colonel had them running around Central like crazy people, and none of the jobs he gave seemed to make any sense on their own, let alone together. After Heymans had been sent to a department store to buy a specific shirt, he wondered if the colonel was using them to run his errands. That theory was thrown out the window when he was instructed to tail a man he'd never seen or heard of in his life. It was when the colonel ordered, straight-faced, that he was to pick up the lieutenant's monstrosity – dog, he meant dog – from the vet that he decided it was best not to wrack his brain trying to figure it out.

With a large bottle of bourbon in one hand, he used the other to push open the glass door to a familiar apartment building. Tonight, he wanted to get drunk, and he knew just the person to drink with.

Mentally damning the staircase as he climbed, Heymans made his way to the third floor. Apartment 309, he thought to himself. They hadn't been in Central very long, but he'd been here enough that he didn't have to read the numbers on the doors. Instead of the nice, metal engravings that sat above each number, Jean still had a torn piece of paper taped on his door. In his friend's messy handwriting, a normal person could just barely see that the characters were supposed to read "J. Havoc."

Heymans removed his hand from his pocket, intending to knock on the door, but he hesitated. Through the cheaply-made, thin walls, he could hear his best friend speaking. The last he knew, Jean had torn his home phone from the wall, cursing Mustang and his house calls.

Another voice came through the walls; it was a woman's. On any other day, Heymans would have turned on his heel and left. But, that afternoon, Jean had been inconsolable that his new girlfriend had dumped him for being 'too nice.'

"Put me down!" the woman shrieked, simultaneously panicked and amused.

"Then listen to me," Jean's voice challenged, followed by a chuckle.

Yeah, something definitely wasn't right. After a moment's pause, Heymans knocked on the door. He jumped back when he heard exited barking coming from inside the apartment. Great, a fucking dog. He kept his distance, warier than before.

"Shut up, mutt," Jean's voice tried to command. "You're still not too big for me to stir fry, you know." The dog continued to bark. "Oh, my god, I'm _joking_. I'm not going to eat the damned dog, Ree."

The wires connected in Heymans' mind. As quickly and as silently as possible, he hurried down the hall and pressed himself against the wall, around a corner. He heard a door open and peered around the bend. Jean stood in the doorway with Black Hayate tucked under his arm. The dog squirmed in his grip, clearly unhappy with this treatment. Jean used his free hand to scratch the back of his head as he looked left, then right, down the hall.

"Give me the dog." Heymans heard Riza's voice, clear as could be. He dared to look around the corner a second time. The lieutenant, out of uniform, was a rare sight indeed. She pried the dog away from Jean and held him properly, the dog's paws over her shoulder with his body supported. "No food?"

"Nah." Jean shrugged. "Probably just some kids playing a prank."

The lieutenant made a non-committal noise before walking back inside the apartment. Heymans ducked back around the corner as Jean looked down the hallway one last time before following suit. When the door clicked shut, Heymans released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He counted to five before slinking back to the door, more curious than before. Was it wrong? Sure. Would he get his ass kicked if he was caught? Of course. But he had to know. He pressed his ear against the wall, listening in.

"Come on, just leave it be," Jean huffed.

"I'm not going to let you throw dirty clothes on the floor like that. Jean, _I bought you a hamper_." Riza countered.

"Yeah, I use it."

"Alright, then. Take these off the floor and go put them there."

Silence.

"That's what I thought." Heymans could practically hear the look Jean had to be getting.

"Okay, I'll do laundry," Jean relented, an implied 'happy?' following his spoken words. "Now, come on. You're not here to clean my apartment, and I'm not gonna let you, so just leave it be."

Heymans strained to hear the lieutenant's response, but he couldn't catch it. He was astounded. The two of them sounded almost… domestic? How had he never picked up on this? The lieutenant held all of them at the same arm's length at work. The few times they went out as a group, it was hard to notice anything other than the colonel's 'subtle' looks that weren't fooling anyone. Even if the only times he'd seen her outside of work were in a group setting, it's not like Jean was an inconspicuous human being. The man constantly wore his heart on his sleeve.

His thoughts were interrupted when Jean spoke. "Why not start the movie? The food's taking forever, and I don't want to be watching it all night."

"If you can find the couch…" Riza's voice was heavily sarcastic, but her tone was playful. It was a combination that Heymans had never heard before.

Footsteps echoed through the wall, one set heavier than the other. The footfalls were rapid. Was he chasing her…? Riza shrieked loud enough that he could have heard her on the other side of the hallway. There was a cushioned thud, followed by laughter from both parties.

"That's what you get for being a little shit!" Jean's voice announced victoriously.

"Let me go!"

Heymans' head was spinning. What the hell was this? He was a strategist; he prided himself on knowing how anyone would act or react in any given situation. Human behavior was predictable. At the moment, he was stuck in a tailspin. He knew, logically, that the lieutenant was more than the voice of reason in the office. But, somehow, he had never allowed for this type of behavior from her. Or from Jean, for that matter, at least toward her.

"Um… sir?"

Heymans looked up from the seat he had taken on the floor, making eye contact with a very confused delivery boy. He stood up and brushed himself off, coughing once into his hand. "I'll give you twenty cens not to tell anyone about this."

"Fifty," the young man haggled.

"Deal." Heymans slipped the money into the kid's palm before shuffling quickly down the hallway. Well, now he had a completely different reason to drink that night.

* * *

Heymans had never been so impatient for Monday to come around. After Friday night, he spent his weekend trapped in a mental hell. He tried everything, thought of everything, analyzed every little detail of any memory he had. He couldn't figure it out. It was killing him.

He sat at his desk, listless. His eyes were so sunken and dark that it was impossible to find a lie to cover his insomnia. He had to choke down the resentment he felt when Jean entered the office, biting his tongue as his best friend sat down beside him.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Jean was genuinely concerned. "You look like the living dead." Trying to help, he pulled a bag of nuts from his work bag and put them on Heymans' desk.

"I'm not hungry."

Jean gaped as though he had just declared himself ruler of Drachma. "Man, do you need to go to the hospital?" He extended his hand to feel Heymans' forehead. Heymans was too fatigued to dodge.

"Nah. I just haven't slept well." He moved Jean's hand away. "I'll be fine." He paused for a moment. "I'm your best friend, right?"

"Duh."

"And you'd tell me anything major, right?"

"You know that."

Heymans made a noise of agreement, unable to stifle his growing skepticism.

It didn't escape his notice that, in a rare anomaly, Riza was the last one to enter the office that morning. To his relief, she'd left the dog at home. _Or at Jean's_ , Heymans' added mentally before he could stop himself. As hard as he tried, he couldn't shut off the analytical part of his brain. He was so tired, so desperate to _just stop thinking about it_ , but he couldn't. His palms felt sweaty, and he took a few deep breaths.

Jean had just told him that he wouldn't keep something like this to himself.

They were best friends.

There was nothing for him to worry about.

Riza looked up from her desk. "Lieutenant Havoc-"

Heymans let out a scream, slamming both hands down on his desk as he shot up out of his chair. "I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!"

The entire room was silent, and all eyes were on him. Heymans, however, was looking directly at Riza.

"Why were you at his apartment?! For the love of god, just tell me!"

Riza was so taken aback that all she could do was stammer.

"Lieutenant!" The colonel snapped, narrowing his eyes.

"She… she was laughing!" Heymans pointed a finger at Riza. "They watched a movie! He chased her!"

"Lieutenant Breda," Kain spoke up, but backed down when Heymans glared in his direction.

Heymans looked back to Jean. "We're best friends, man! I don't care if you're sleeping together, but you're supposed to tell me these things!"

"We're what?!" Jean exclaimed, taken aback.

"Don't insult me by playing dumb!"

Roy rose from his desk. "Lieutenant Breda, that's _enough!_ "

Heymans swayed slightly and lifted a hand to his aching head. "I… I'm going to go home now."

"Falman?" Roy looked to his subordinate.

"Easy does it." Vato stood beside Heymans, clearly afraid that he was going to fall over. "Let's go get you a cab."

The door clicked shut behind them.

The room was silent for the better part of a minute. No one moved or spoke. Even the wind had stopped coming in through the cracked windows.

Kain was the first to look up. "Are you…?"

"No," snapped Jean and Riza at the same instant, and Kain was pretty sure he had heard the colonel, too.

Kain nodded. "Right. Okay then." He decided that the best course of action was to busy himself with his work. He couldn't help but ask one last question: "So, what movie did you watch?"


End file.
